


Promptober 2019

by DestinyFreeReally



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2020-11-09 03:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 16,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20846666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyFreeReally/pseuds/DestinyFreeReally
Summary: Happy October! A list of 31 Promptober prompts can be found on iimdestinyfreereally.tumblr.com in case anyone else wants to join this little fic exercise. Otherwise, I'm gonna do one fic a day based on the word of the day every day for thirty one days. (Hopefully) I'm trying not to pressure myself too much so if I miss a day I'll make it up and so on. I'm going to try not to post any early. If anybody wants to join and only wants to do one or two prompts, or every other day, or whatever! I'm gonna try to have fun and get back into writing regularly, that's all I can promise :)EDIT: YES im finishing this in oct 2020. if it kills me.





	1. Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometime in S2?

With a jump, Veronica woke to the sound of the doorbell, and realized she’d dozed off on the couch, again. It was becoming a regular habit, she shook her head at herself. Between working two jobs, her regular school schedule, and her college prep, she knew she hadn’t been getting her full eight hours. Not to mention, she’d been having an uneasy time sleeping in Duncan’s bed at the Neptune Grand. Every time she tried to stay over, she found herself awake counting sheep on the fancy tiles on the ceiling and trying not to have nightmares about the bus crash.    
  
“Coming!” She fought a yawn and dragged herself off the couch. “Coming,” she sang again, and opened the door with a swing. “Resident evil, what can I do for you?” Surprised to see Logan at her door, Veronica brushed the sleep from her eyes with a small movement she still found Logan clocking.    
  
“Did I wake sleeping beauty?” He eyed the throw blanket on the couch. Playing his heart break like a game made it more bearable; they traded barbs, they traded blows, but mostly they backed each other’s play. He sort of found himself counting on that. “I think I need your help,” he softened his voice, lowering his chin. Confident Veronica Mars preferred him sorry and begging, he thought it might be the best approach.    
  
Wavering just a second, Veronica swallowed her contemplation and opened the door wider to let him in. They ran into eachother all the time at the Neptune Grand, at school, at the beach, around Duncan.    
  
“Step into my office, feel free to not make yourself at home. Why not just find me at school?” Ignoring the memories they shared in the girl’s bathroom, Veronica thought it was a fair question. Instead he was in her living room, acting all guilty and confusing.    
  
“It’s… about Kendall Casablancas,” he ran his fingertips against the hair on the back of his neck, leaning onto her kitchen table. And he relished the eyeroll Kendall’s name earned him. He wondered if it was sick somehow, a little wrong, to hope that Veronica was just a tiny bit jealous, even then. “So… you see why I wanted a private conversation,” he shrugged.   
  
“I’m not really sure why you want it with  _ me, _ I told you Kendall’s bad news, she’s married to your best friend’s dad, and she’s up to something I haven’t completely figured out yet.” Uncertain if the edge in her voice betrayed her, Veronica hoped she sounded the regular kind of annoyed instead of sounding like Logan’s ex-girlfriend finding out he was sleeping with somebody else. She could ignore the spark of jealousy; she could at least try. She had Duncan, after all. Duncan and her sleepless nights at the Neptune Grand. She scolded herself, and tried to press on. 

  
“Veronica,” he softened again, letting her have the point. She wasn’t saying anything  _ wrong, _ per se. But he was trying to stay on message. “I think I know what she’s up to. Hence, I think I need your help,” he leveled his eyes with hers, pleading the soft, gooey Veronica center might bubble up for him another time.    
  
“You’ve got five minutes,” Veronica sat across from him, “and then I’m going back to sleep,” she promised.


	2. Neat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A one-shot Bartender AU I was thinking about in the shower. Bartender Logan / Patron Veronica

“Whiskey. Neat. Better make it a double, actually,” the blonde sighed into the barstool and Logan caught himself smiling, already.   
  
He knew her name was Veronica, Veronica Mars, from the credit card receipts. Short script letters, no frill but fairly neat and legible. Veronica Mars, he nodded that he got her order and went to get her whiskey from under the bar. Some of The Dirty Bird’s regulars were regularly prickly, the blonde included. Most of the time she ordered her drink, spent an hour on her phone sipping it, and then paid her tab and left. In the beginning, Logan tried to get her to engage; to switch off her phone and let the people-person in him assuage her into unbuttoning a little, conversationally. Not that he didn’t fantasize about unbuttoning her, literally. Most of his regular clients were middle-aged cops, retired or otherwise, and usually they weren’t as easy on his eyes as mysterious blonde Veronica Mars. But after months of her quiet Tuesday visits, Logan got the message.   
  
He was pretty sure _“better make it a double, actually,’ _ was the longest almost-real sentence she ever uttered to him, it had Logan’s bartender-since-sixteen spidey senses all a-tingle.   
  
“Rough day?” He tried, putting a clean glass in front of her and pouring slowly.   
  
“You could say that,” her tone smarted, but Logan held out hope. Maybe Ms. Veronica Mars wasn’t so prickly all the time.   
  
“Lemme guess you’re a…. And I need your help, you fill in the blank here. A) Cop, B) prosecutor, C)... _really_ stressed out dentist,” his eyebrow quirked, catching her eye for the first time he could remember. He could swear she was threatening to smile; just threatening.   
  
Mostly when Veronica let herself crawl into The Dirty Bird, she just wanted to sit at the high bar and decompress in her own little fortress of solitude. But it _had_ been a bad day, and the cute bartender she’d been eyeing for months was making the extra effort.   
  
“D,” she decided to think about playing along. “I’m a private investigator,” she leaned her elbows on the bar a little, reaching for her drink, and watched his face play a little surprise. “Trust me, I’ve heard the whole range of reactions to my profession. _You can’t be serious,”_ she pulled a voice. “_In your line of work, I thought you’d be taller,” _she pulled another, and tried to ignore the dopey grin on the bartender’s face. “And my personal favorite, _so, does that gig come with handcuffs?”_   
  
Logan laughed, and nodded easy. Bars were always full of guys asking questions like that. Logan preferred the prickly customers. Wiping down the bar, he tried to picture her a private detective.   
  
“Well, now you’ve got me all curious,” he offered her a fresh napkin and a glass of ice water next to her whiskey. It was a quiet night, as he scanned the rest of the mostly empty bar, he was grateful. If the blonde was finally ready to chat, Logan wanted to be all ears. “Most of what I know about private eyes comes from movies, if I’m honest. _Maybe_ some of it from comic books; you’re not secretly Batman, are you?” He leaned in a little, in a stage whisper.   
  
“I wouldn’t mind having his bank slips, and come to think of it, have you ever seen us in the same room?” She whispered back loudly, face screwed up in hard false thought.   
  
“You know… Now that you mention it…” Logan furrowed his brow, too and tried to measure his delight that she was playing along. Mysterious Veronica Mars was kind of fun. “So what’s a bad day to a private dick?” He pressed his luck; he had to.  
  
“Well. I lost two thousand dollars worth of bail jumper to the Mexican border,” she said flatly, turning her attention to her drink and taking a big swig. “And I came home to drown my sorrows in a _very_ hot bubble bath only to find that the water heater in my building’s broken, again,” she took another swig of her drink, and winced at the exhale. “So that’s how my day’s going. What’s your name, again?” Positive he’d mentioned it months ago, Veronica had spent the last ten minutes racking her brain for a name, and she’d come up with Logan, but was uncertain.   
  
“Logan,” he extended his hand for a handshake, and smiled when she agreed. “Logan Echolls,” he added.   
  
“I’m Veronica Mars,” she took her hand back, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks.   
  
“Veronica,” nodding, Logan grinned. “I was just gonna call you whiskey neat, but Veronica sounds better, I guess.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone looking for the Promptober prompt list can join whenever they want!! Prompts are at https://iimdestinyfreereally.tumblr.com/post/188066253101/vmfic-promptober-2019 for anyone to check out.


	3. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lianne's alcoholism mention. And a little ref to pain killers addiction.

“Mom?  _ Mom?” _ Veronica tore through the front door, kicking off her sparkly pink sandals and throwing her bookbag down on top of them. “Mom?” There were boxes everywhere, things her mother hadn’t started to unpack because she was in disbelief that they were actually gonna live in  _ that _ condo in  _ that _ complex in  _ that  _ neighborhood. It was an ongoing fight with reality. But Veronica had been called down to the office about a medical emergency at home. “Mom, where are you, are you okay?”    
  
Going for her parent’s bedroom, Veronica found her mom stuffing a green glass bottle under her pillow and greeting her daughter with an uneasy smile.    
  
“You got my message? I was sure that old bat at the reception desk was going to forget by the time she hung up the office phone. I’m okay sweetie, really. Just wanted you to know that I wouldn’t be picking you up today and I had a little incident.” Running her hand through her daughter’s hair, Lianne winced when Veronica leaned on her side of the bed.    
  
“Did that hurt? What happened?” Veronica looked over her mother for any gushing head wounds, any signs of heart attack or stroke, but nothing seemed visibly out of place.    
  
“I’m okay, really, I just had a little slip and fall in the bathroom, you know I told your father we need a mat for in there; the hospital said I sprained a few ribs on the side of the tub, but as long as I don’t do anything to aggravate the sprains, you know like, breathe or cough, for the next ever, I should heal up just fine.” Lianne’s smile was almost convincing, but Veronica saw her mom really was in pain.    
  
“Can I get you anything? Have you had anything to eat or drink? Didn’t you call Dad?” Busying herself instantly, Veronica went out to the kitchen for a glass of water and to make her mother a sandwich. Crustless, of course, like a true Mars woman. The glass bottle in her parents’ room nagged at her while she worked.    
  
It hadn’t been a simple slippery floor that brought her mother down; Veronica was sure the situation was more complicated, and little more loaded. Green glass bottles had been mysteriously appearing and disappearing all over their new downsized home.    
  
“I haven’t called your father at all; you know he’s busy at work, building a new client list and everything,” Lianne called from her room, and Veronica fought an eyeroll in spite of herself.   
  
Her dad’s new job as a private investigator was another topic of Mars household throwdowns. Her mother hated the idea, the execution, and everything in between.    
  
“Yep, wouldn’t want to bother him,” Veronica murmured, as she squeezed a lemon into her mother’s water. She usually liked that.    
  
“Oh and honey, there’s a bottle of medicine on the table, all prescription, I’m supposed to have every two hours, if you could just bring that to me, too.” Lianne asked, like there was no trouble at all.    
  
But Veronica’s eyes scanned the bottle, who’s instructions read every six hours. Was her mother confused? Or lying? Or both?   
  
It was hard to tell these days. 


	4. Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre Series Halloween one shot

“Okay, just one more touch,” Lilly prodded at Veronica’s eyelid with a scratchy-feeling pad for what felt like ten minutes. An hour into getting ready for the school Halloween party, Veronica was ready to actually  _ get _ to the partying. When she agreed to be the ‘sugar’ to Lilly’s ‘spice,’ Veronica hadn’t imagined the full makeover she’d gotten herself into. “Okay, I think you’re about ready,” Lilly blew excess sparkles from Veronica’s cheeks.   
  
“Can I look? Can I look?” Veronica squealed, eyes open reaching for the handheld mirror. “Jeez, Lilly,” Veronica felt her own features, eyeing herself in the mirror. “I look…” Well, her dad would’ve killed her. But her mom was supposed to be chaperoning the dance.   
  
“Like the sweetest little sugarplum?” Lilly reapplied her own  _ spicy _ lipgloss. “Cause I was really trying to give you the sugar-y forbidden fruit look,” she smacked her lips plump and shiny in the mirror over Veronica’s shoulder. “There’s no way my brother won’t totally eat you up,” she played the innuendo.   
  
It was Lilly’s latest obsession; reminding Veronica and Duncan that they were destined to be together and have twenty five blue-eyed children for Auntie Lilly to spoil like crazy. Veronica  _ liked _ Duncan; but she kept getting his hot and cold routine. Sometimes it seemed like he liked her. He was nice to her, but he was kind of nice to everybody. Veronica couldn’t tell if she and Duncan were both just bending to Lilly’s whim.    
  
“Let’s go, Sugar, I can’t be Spice all by my lonesome,” Lilly grabbed her purse, the only accessory she was willing to carry. “Plus, I’m sure the boys will already be whining. At least Logan. He’s still a little pissy I wouldn’t do the couples-costume thing with him,” she rolled her eyes.   
  
“Well you guys are, you know, a couple.” Veronica loved Lilly more than anyone, but once in awhile she could sympathize with Logan. She knew how long he’d searched for the couple’s costume he thought Lilly would go for. “Besides, pregnant nun and the devil might’ve been a little funny,” Veronica elbowed Lilly’s ribs, getting a laugh, and a toss of her hair.   
  
“He can be the devil on his own time, tonight’s about being fun and young and  _ hot,  _ and Veronica we’re already killing it,” Lilly promised. Halloween was a mischievous holiday, after all. 


	5. Mesh

“Welcome to detention, Mr. Navarro,” Clemmons deadpan smiled, and Weevil wondered if there was a whole semester on that expression in vice-principal-school. “Play nice with the other inmates,” Clemmons warned, as Weevil spotted Logan Echolls and Duncan Kane already cleaning up the courtyard.    
  
The vice principal handed Weevil a broom to match the other boys,’ and Weevil couldn’t hold back a sigh. There were some days he  _ really  _ wanted to break that promise he made his abuela. Nine am on a Sunday morning, cleaning up the school courtyard with hungover 09ers; yeah, Weevil could think of other places he’d rather be.    
  
“If we split it into sections, we can probably get out of here faster,” Duncan spoke without looking Weevil’s way.    
  
“I’ll do over here,” Weevil shrugged. Maybe they could get out of there faster if they worked together.    
  
“So, what’d you do to piss Clemmons off?” Logan swept his corner, eyebrows perking up at Weevil.    
  
This was one of his main problems with Logan Echolls. On a fundamental level, Weevil noticed the kid just couldn’t keep his mouth shut a lot of the time. Really ever, from what he could tell. But, misery loved company. Or at least tolerated it.    
  
“Too many latenesses, and then, insubordination.” Collecting his litter into a pile, Weevil rolled his eyes thinking about it. If he had just been  _ absent _ , he wouldn’t have had detention. But because he came late, it was a big deal? And then challenging  _ that _ line of administration logic was what landed him there cleaning garbage. Detention, juvie, what was the difference? It was all bullshit for bullshit’s sake. He slid his broom harder, shaking his head. “What about you guys?”   
  
Logan and Duncan shared a guilty look between them. “Drinking at the girls’ soccer game,” Logan laughed. It’d been a funny night, regardless of the consequences.    
  
“And mooning the ref,” Duncan added, laughing, too.    
  
“Ugh, thanks for  _ that _ visual nightmare; I’ve never been more happy I don’t go to the girls’ soccer games,” Weevil shook his head.   
  
“You should, their uniforms are hot,” Logan laughed, pulling away from Duncan trying to slap his arm. “What? Knee socks? Short shorts?”   
  
Weevil laughed in spite of himself. “There’s something wrong with you,” he refocused on cleaning, as Clemmons came back out.    
  
“Everyone’s getting along? This isn’t the social club,” Clemmons frowned. But it was better than having to pull the kids off eachother. “Another ten minutes; try and finish up out here, boys. And maybe think hard before you throw your own garbage on school grounds,” he urged, going back inside.   
  
“And mooning school officials,” Duncan shoved Logan, a little, and Weevil swallowed a crack about how couldn’t they just get their work done.    
  
Even in a mutual detention, which could’ve gone worse, Weevil just felt like he didn’t mesh with Logan and Duncan. They were oil and he was water, and even when they were co-existing there was an undercurrent of tension and annoyance and. Well, maybe he just found them annoying.    
  
At the edge of the courtyard, outside the school’s fence, Weevil spotted Veronica’s lemon pulling up.    
  
“C’mon, let’s finish this crap up,” Weevil said, motioning for Logan and Duncan to help him get the rest of the litter gathered up.    
  
“Dude, check it out, we’ve got an audience,” Logan nodded in Veronica’s direction, making Duncan look up.    
  
“That’s my ride, man, come on,” Weevil said, finishing cleaning up, and reminding the pair of them that he was still friends with Veronica Mars. While Duncan and Logan comprised her on-again off-again fan club, Weevil considered himself pretty regularly tight with Veronica when either of them were in a tight spot.    
  
“Is she side-gigging as a taxi service now, too?” Logan joked; teasing Veronica sometimes lost something when she couldn’t actually hear him. “Not that I care,” he added, when Duncan’s face dropped.   
  
“Nah, she needs a favor,” Weevil pulled his leather jacket back on, and tied off the garbage bag as Clemmons reemerged, commuting their sentences.    
  
“What kinda favor?” Duncan asked, again talking to Weevil without looking at him.    
  
“Boys, you are free to go,” Clemmons interrupted, and Weevil figured that was just as well, anyway. He couldn’t keep up with the soap opera of Veronica Mars’ social life, but he was pretty sure Duncan Kane was not on Veronica’s Need-to-Know list. Weevil saluted the other boys his goodbye, and walked off knowing they were watching.    
  
“Did you guys have a nice play date?” Veronica greeted him with a smart smile.    
  
“Oh yeah, we’re gonna start a band, too,” Weevil shook his head. “So what was so urgent?”   
  
“Oh, nothing really. Just need your help breaking back into Clemmons’ office,” she smiled wide, trying to win him over.    
  
“Just don’t land me in another Sunday morning detention,” he grumbled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, it was a stretch, but i wanna work on Logan and Weevil's interactions a little more. And group scenes. 
> 
> i know i'm a couple days behind, I'm gonna work them off.


	6. Spoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> s2 sometime?

Restless, Veronica hated how awake she was. She was exhausted, she knew it, but she was too hot, too cramped, too… She shifted, trying not to disturb Duncan. His arm draped over her middle, pinning her between the blanket layers she desperately wanted to escape. Duncan’s forearm was slick with sweat against her, and Veronica tried shifting her weight again, trying to free her feet from the thick cocoon of fancy hotel blanket. It’d been hours, Veronica frowned at the clock. She’d been laying restless for hours, waiting for sleep to come, but she found herself awake, sweaty, tired, and achey from the angle Duncan was holding her to. And she was kind of thirsty, if she was going to get  _ really _ nitpicky.    
  
From Duncan’s heavy snoring, Veronica thought maybe if she moved gently and quietly, she could slip out of the bed for a second without waking him. Carefully, she slid out from under his arm, gently finding her feet on the cool tile, and Veronica felt relief. Even if she  _ did _ wake Duncan, it was already worth it. But slowly, she eased her weight out of the bed, looking back at Duncan as she slipped out of the room. He was snoring just as soundly, and she let herself head for the fridge.    
  
One of the perks of having a boyfriend who lived in a luxury hotel, was the gourmet room service leftovers that always graced the refridgerator shelves at late-night hours. Gently, she pulled the fridge door revealing all sorts of leftovers; pizza and chinese, in true teenage boy fashion. Down at the bottom, Veronica spied a chocolate pudding cup with her name all over it.    
  
“Veronica Mars, up late on a school night? You won’t be as bright-eyed as usual tomorrow,” Logan announced himself in a stage-whisper from across the hotel room. He’d thought he’d heard the click of Duncan’s bedroom door, and then he spied the silhouette of a blonde, pint-sized private eye standing in the glow of his fridge.    
  
“You know what they say,” Veronica winced, pulling the pudding cup from the fridge even though she’d been caught. “Midnight snacks are the most important meals of the day,” she waved the pudding at him, and stopped herself from asking if she’d woken him up. She was trying to keep their relationship as casual and non-combative as possible, and she found that was easier when they cared less about each other.    
  
“Got another one of those in there?” He asked, eyeing her pudding. She handed him the one she had and reached in the fridge for a replacement. “Need a good spoon?” He asked, and Veronica wasn’t sure it was the dim fridge light that was casting the smirk on his face.    
  
“As a matter of fact,” Veronica swiped the outstretched spoon from his hands, and went to town on her pudding cup. “Nice pajamas,” she teased, soothed by the cool, smooth chocolate.    
  
She’d bought him those pajamas, they were a goofy Christmas gift from years ago, almost too short now around his ankles. She’d never seen him wear them when they were dating, Veronica wondered why he would wear them now. But those were the kind of questions she’d ask if she cared, and she doesn’t, so she shook her head at herself instead.    
  
“They were in the poolhouse, so, they survived…” Logan sighed a little, thinking about the literal wreckage his life had become. It was a lot to think about, losing his home, losing his girlfriend, losing his family. He mostly tried to not think about it, and that usually worked. “There’s whipped cream in a can in the cabinet behind you,” he added, licking the rest of his cup clean. “I’m headed back to bed, sweet tooth all rotted out and everything. Goodnight, I guess,” he pushed himself off the counter where he’d been leaning. “Enjoy your spoon,” he stage-whispered again, and crept back into his room for the night.    
  
With an eyeroll, Veronica helped herself to the whipped cream, enjoying the silence of the night at last, and putting off thoughts about sneaking home to get some real sleep.    



	7. Center

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of Veronica's rape. Tw for rape and stds, stay safe folks

“Hi there, you’ve called the women’s health center of Neptune, California. My name is Sarah, how can I help you today?”    
  
Veronica swallowed a deep breath. She’d kind of been hoping for an automated messaging system; the twenty first century let her down, at last.    
  
“Hello?”   
  
“Hi, Sarah,” Veronica made herself talk. No false voice, no Amber or Inga or her impression of the week. “I was actually just wondering what your clinic hours are like on weekends?” Sitting at her desk, biting a fingernail, Veronica had promised herself she would call and make an appointment as soon as her dad went out for lunch. She checked her watch, and he was due back… any minute.    
  
“Of course, so we’re open from nine am to six pm every weekend, and our emergency services can be contacted at any time. Walk-ins are welcome in the clinic, or I can make you appointment right now over the phone if that works for your schedule?” The woman on the phone sounded so cheerful, so helpful. Almost out of spite, Veronica felt herself put a little at ease.   
  
“Um, would I be able to… get tested, at your facilities?” Veronica almost choked on a cough. So she wasn’t  _ that _ soothed. But she had to know, one way or another, what she was dealing with.    
  
After her rape, most of her reactions were immeadiate. She went through the five stages of grief, of denial, of self-guilt, of shame. Every time Veronica thought she dealt with it, dealt with what happened to her, she found another angle she hadn’t thought of. Like STD’s.    
  
“We can schedule you a STI and STD screening, if you like?” Sarah helped, and Veronica nodded, even over the phone.    
  
“Great,” she said, like anything about this whole thing was great. “Yes, I’d like an appointment for a screening. As soon as possible, actually.” It was hanging over her head, looming, that there was another consequence of that stupid party. Every time she washed that guy’s handprints off her in the shower, there was still another thing he took from her.    
  
“Absolutely, so the only information I need from you to make an appointment over the phone is your first name; everything else is up to you to disclose if you like at the center. There will be some medical history questions from your doctor, just so they know what they should be looking for. But our goal is to make sure every woman feels comfortable here, that’s what we do,” Sarah promised, and Veronica  _ was _ actually a little relieved she’d gone with  _ this _ women’s center.    
  
“Sure, I’m Veronica. And like I said, as soon as possible; today, even tomorrow.” Clearing her throat, Veronica tapped her fingers on her desk. Was she going to be comfortable? Probably not. Was it going to be the worst thing that ever happened to her?   
  
“Does three thirty this afternoon sound okay to you, Veronica?”    
  
“Three thirty this afternoon sounds great, thank you so much, you’ve been a lot of help.” Veronica snapped to sit up straighter when she heard her father come in the downstairs storm door.    
  
“Okay, great, we’ll see you then,” Sarah hung up first, and Veronica closed her phone just in time for her dad to walk in.    
  
“Important business call? I brought Chinese,” Keith put his daughters chicken and broccoli in front of her, pulling chopsticks from another bag.    
  
“Wrong number actually, but I’m going to have to take off in a little bit,” she eyed the clock. Forty five minutes. She just had to wait forty five more minutes. “School project,” she lied, tearing into her lunch.  _ Forty five more minutes. _   



	8. Leaf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pre-series Fab Four shenanigans ;)

Smoothing her hands down her dress, Veronica found herself a little out of sorts. Standing at the entrance to the high school gym, through the strobe lights and the fog machine and the DJ’s noise, Veronica  _ knew _ if she just relaxed a little bit, she would probably have fun.    
  
“Veronica Mars, welcome to your first high school dance,” Lilly grabbed Veronica from behind, pulling her towards the dance floor.    
  
The Fall Freshmen Social was supposed to be about freshmen meeting the rest of the student body at Neptune High, but Veronica knew Lilly from middle school, really. Lilly being a year older in middle school didn’t mean that much, but now Lilly was a sophomore and Veronica was a freshman; it felt like a bigger deal.    
  
“Hello, earth to Mars,” Lilly teased, twirling Veronica to the beat, “my dork brother is totally checking you out right now, dude,” Lilly shook her head. At least Donut’s taste in girls was improving. Veronica Mars was a pretty young blonde thing Lilly had invested a lot of time in bringing into her social sphere.    
  
“No he’s not,” Veronica shrugged her off, “but Logan Echolls is  _ totally _ checking  _ you _ out.”    
  
“Him, and about two dozen other starstruck freshmen who’ve never seen sophomore boobs before,” Lilly shrugged, dipping Veronica to the beat, showing her off to her little brother.    
  
“Oh  _ please, _ like you don’t like Logan,” Veronica shimmied to the music, earning Lilly’s excited high-pitched giggle.    
  
“Of course I  _ like _ Logan, Veronica, but do I look like a girl who gives into male impulse?” Lilly pursed her lips, blowing a kiss Logan’s way, laughing again when his eyebrows shot up across the gym. “I’m gonna go get a drink, go see those two and see if you can get them to dance,” Lilly pushed Veronica towards the corner of the dancefloor where Duncan and Logan were hovering by their lonesome.    
  
“And  _ how _ am I supposed to do that?” Veronica turned to Lilly.    
  
“Turn on the  _ charm, _ Veronica, have I taught you nothing?” Lilly giggled, leaving Veronica and making her way to the refreshments table on the side.    
  
“Lilly said me over,” Veronica blurted, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she met up with Logan and Duncan. “She wants you two to come dance,” she smiled, hoping she wasn’t smiling too hard at Duncan. So  _ what _ if she had liked him a little bit in middle school. He  _ was _ Lilly’s little brother, which sort of complicated the whole situation.    
  
“I’m not really sure Lilly’s all that concerned about it,” Logan sipped his own spiked punch and eyed Lilly across the gym, dancing up against some upperclassman.    
  
“Gross, dude, why would you point that out, that’s my sister,” Duncan huffed. Being in the same school again, meant Duncan lost all plausible deniability of Lilly’s antics.    
  
“So, Ronnie, what do you think of high school so far?” Logan pointedly turned his attention back to Veronica, and Duncan followed suit.   
  
“Uhm, I mean… school’s kind of school, right? Books, number two pencils, boring teachers… kind of the same old schtick,” Veronica shrugged. For all that Lilly kept talking about Neptune High and it’s great  _ epicness, _ Veronica thought it all kind of seemed very similar. Except the addition of after school clubs, she admitted. “Although, I tried out for the junior pep squad and made the team, so… that’s different, I guess,” her smile brightened, and Duncan looked like he was about to say something congratulatory to her, when Vice Principal Clemmons seized the microphone at the head of the gym.    
  
“At this time, I’d just like to extend a welcoming sentiment on behalf of the administration,” the music lowered, and the vice principal continued, “may the incoming class of 2006 feel all the Pirate Pride of their senior classmen.” Clemmons cued a staffer, and confetti and balloons fell from a net on the ceiling.    
  
“Cool,” Logan laughed, pitching a balloon away with his fist. There were dozens of brown, orange, and yellow balloons being passed around the dancefloor.    
  
“Oh, Veronica, you have-” Duncan’s hand froze above Veronica’s head.    
  
“What? What is it?” Veronica combed her hair with her fingers, Duncan’s hand hovering above her.    
  
“Here, lemme see,” Logan cleared his throat and Duncan pulled back a little. “Look, here,” he shrugged. “Happy Fall Freshmen Social,” Logan brandished the leaf-shaped confetti he’d pulled from Veronica’s hair. “Maybe if you make a wish you’ll have good luck in high school,” he held it up for Veronica to make a wish off his finger, and she did, shaking her head.    
  
Lilly threw her arm over Veronica, suddenly rejoining the group. “So, who’s ready for the after-party?” She laughed. 


	9. Cruise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally, i wrote a way longer, totally different piece for this. But i'm actually gonna save that for when I have time to write a whole fic for it, not just a little promptlet. ;)

“Okay, one more time, honey, when you come up to a one-way and you want to make a left, you should…” Keith prompted, turning around to look at his daughter when only sullen silence followed.    
  
“I should turn off my headlights, close my eyes, put it in neutral, and let Jesus take the wheel,” Veronica replied, unfolding her arms from across her chest. “Dad, I  _ know _ this stuff, you  _ know _ I know this stuff.” Veronica levelled her gaze at him. They’d been at it for weeks, even after Veronica passed her road test with flying colors,  _ and _ taken the Sheriff department’s defensive driving course. She had a shiny, new license she  _ desperately  _ wanted to try out, and she’d been trying to humor her dad but  _ really. _ “It’s two point four miles to the school parking lot, if I don’t take the freeway during the morning school rush. It’s like a nine minute drive including red lights, I can  _ handle _ this, Dad,” she squirmed under her father’s thinking face.    
  
In his Sheriff’s uniform a lot of the town thought he was impenetrable, but Veronica knew better. She saw him about to waver and crack.    
  
“I want you to call me when you park on campus,” he sighed, “before you go into class just call my office phone so I know you’re alright.” Keith brightened at his daughter’s excited squeal. As much as he would’ve preferred her staying six years old forever, dancing on top of his feet and leaving little I-love-you sticky notes on his files, time kept overruling him. She was ready to drive, and he guessed he had to let her.    
  
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she squealed, taking the keys from his palm and pressing another kiss to his cheek. “I’ll call you from my parking spot,” she swore.    
  
“And you’ll be careful,” he still hadn’t let go of the keys.    
  
“And I’ll be careful.” Veronica promised.   
  
“And no cruising during lunch period, okay honey? Just stay at school, I know how much you love a sloppy joe,” he kissed the top of her head and finally let go of the car keys.    
  
“Cruising?” Veronica shook her head. “I’ll eat my sloppy joe in my parked car, thank you very much,” she could barely hold back her excitement. The lebaron wasn’t the cadillacs or mustangs her friends drove, but it was  _ hers. _ And she was going to be allowed to  _ drive  _ it. By  _ herself. _ “No cruising, whatsoever.”   
  
With a little luck, Veronica turned the key from the driver’s seat and the car came to life.    
  
“I’ll catch ya later, pops,” she smiled from the convertible, and Keith felt himself getting a little misty-eyed.    
  
“Don’t forget to call me, Veronica,” he reminded her, and watched her pull away. 


	10. Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a pre MOTW moment. thanks for reading these!

“Hey!” Veronica shrieked, finding herself shoulder-checked in the hallway. Long used to her issues with the student populace, Veronica snapped her head toward the culprit, looking for a fight. But the girl rushing past her had her head down, crying into her hands and racing towards the girl’s bathroom.    
  
The bell rang, and Veronica chewed her lip. She didn’t want to be late for physics, again. But she wanted to check on the girl.  _ Marshmallow tendencies be damned, _ she shook her head at herself, and went into the girl’s bathroom.    
  
“Are you okay?” Veronica asked the sniffling under the stall, waiting a beat. “It’s Veronica Mars,” she tried. “Is something wrong?”   
  
“I’m fine,” the girl swung the stall door open, still clearly upset and clearly crying.    
  
“Diana,” Veronica balked. Diana Matthews was another one-time friend of Veronica Mars’ pep-squad days. She was more Lilly’s friend, a year older than Veronica, and the two hadn’t stayed close long after Lilly’s death.  _ What, with my social leprosy and all,  _ Veronica wasn’t sure she was feeling as much sympathy as she had a second ago. “Is everything okay?” She asked anyway; she was already late for class.    
  
“It’s fine,” Diana shrugged, rubbing at her eyes in the girl’s bathroom mirror. She met Veronica’s eyes in the reflection, and sobbed a little. “Is it true, what people say about you?” She asked, in a small voice.    
  
“People say a lot of things,” Veronica leaned against the sink, handing Diana a fresh tissue. “You’re gonna haveta be more specific,” she smiled, rinsing another tissue to help with the make up smears.    
  
“You like, help people?” Sniffling, Diana looked Veronica straight on, and Veronica recognized a face in crisis. “You’re like a private investigator?” She prompted.    
  
Swapping the dry tissue for the wet, Veronica helped Diana get cleaned up. “Just press it against your lids, your eyes are still red,” she instructed softly. “My dad’s a private investigator, I can help friends, sometimes.” Were they friends? No. But Veronica  _ had _ been broadly stretching her definition of friend. Working with Weevil Navarro, helping out Logan Echolls. She really  _ was _ getting soft, she shook her head. “What sort of thing did you need help with?”   
  
Diana paused, flinching a little at the question, checking the mirror to see if her eyes looked better.    
  
“I’m dating this college guy,” she confessed, with a huff. “He’s older, and like more mature and everything, right? I thought it’d be a really cool way to start going to college parties as a senior, and Dave has his own apartment so we could like, hang out whenever,” she ran her hands through her hair, looking a mess to her own reflection. “But I really  _ like _ him, and I started helping him pay rent, which sounded fair cause I spend a  _ lot _ of time there, you know,” putting her hair back up, Diana sighed.    
  
“But…” Veronica prompted. Rosy, romantic dreams always had a way of lending themselves to make up smeared eyes in the girl’s bathroom. She wasn’t  _ cynical, _ she swore. She was a realist, she asserted.    
  
“But, now I’ve given him like ten thousand dollars…” Diana paused for Veronica’s hiss about 09ers and their priorities. “And now I’m pretty sure he’s cheating on me. I found some other’s girl’s bra,” she confessed.    
  
Veronica thought about Diana, about their pep squad past.  _ For Lilly… _ she decided. And cash.    
  
“Do you want your money back or do you want the truth?” She decided to take the case, with a huff. She was gonna be screwed for physics.    
  
“Both?” Diana brightened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a lot of catching up to do! i'm gonna post a bunch today. i just moved to california and we lost power for a few days lol. so. here goes.


	11. Spice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the Bartender AU!

Finding her familiar bar stool, Veronica smiled down the bar at Logan. Tending to another patron, he nodded his hello and held his finger up, asking her for a minute. Nodding, Veronica pulled out her phone, hating the buzz in her fingers, the heat in her cheeks. More and more frequently, she found herself stopping into Logan’s bar, when she knew he was on duty. They’d been getting to know each other, and for the first time in a long time, Veronica found herself  _ liking _ getting to know someone. And he was every bit the bartending cliches; he listened to her, really listened, but his responses were always quick, jabby. She could lose an argument to him, she realized a few weeks ago, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d met someone that didn’t give up their last word for her. It was like a game.    
  
“I think tonight, you should let me pick your drink,” Logan tended to her needs, finally, and saw trepidation play across her features. “Trust me, I’m like my own version of a private detective, I know what you’ll like,” he needled her, his voice dipping low and teasing. Veronica shook her head; every time she came here, she half-expected Logan to overplay his hand, to say something his charm couldn’t smooth out. But she had to keep waiting.    
  
“Really? You say that to all the girls,” she shook her head.    
  
“Just the blondes,” Logan winked, and the bar was dark but he thought he could see a little blush on Veronica’s face. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he was feeling wishful. She never came on other bartender’s shifts; sure, it was a lowkey place she could get a drink, but Logan didn’t think it was  _ all _ vanity to think that she was a  _ little _ coming to see him now, too. “Trust me?” He asked, his hands stilling over the glass he poured her.    
  
A dark amber liquid stared Veronica down. “If you were gonna roofie me, I feel like you’d have done it by now,” she shrugged, going for the dark, easy joke instead of the long, painful trip down memory lane. Throwing the drink back, she hissed her approval.    
  
“Eh?” Logan waited for her reluctant approval. He knows a few things about Veronica Mars, and as much as she keeps surprising him, he’s started counting on her, too.    
  
“That was, very, very smooth,” she nodded. “I never would’ve ordered it, I don’t even know what  _ it _ was, but it was kind of delicious,” Veronica shrugged.    
  
“Spiced rum,” Logan smiled, “a brand called Neptune rum. Want another one?”   
  
“I don’t think tonight,” she shook her head; Veronica promised herself she’d just have one drink, and then go home to her dog. “I have a hot date tonight,” she smiled proud and taunting, and watched Logan’s face fall a little.    
  
“You’re telling me there’s a boyfriend that makes you hang out here alone? Gimme his number so I can kick his ass,” Logan felt a little crestfallen, but he was pretty sure he recovered well.    
  
“You guys have a no dogs policy,” Veronica pointed at the sign behind the bar. “I promised my pit mix lots of belly rubs tonight,” she smiled, and found it cute when Logan did a big, dramatic sigh of relief.    
  
“Does that mean you’re free tomorrow night?” Logan asked, leaning down so only she could hear.    
  
“Are you gonna keep guessing what else I like?” Veronica asked, and it was her turn to swing her voice low, almost melting him where he stood.    
  
Logan could smell the spiced rum on her breath from how close they were across the bar, and it made him a little dizzy to get this close to her.    
  
“I gotta tell you, Veronica, I’m ready to quit my job right this second and beg to drive you home,” he laughed, resisting the urge to press a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.    
  
“Tell you what, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at closing?” She asked, pulling back a little, being too close to him was too tempting, and she was starting to scare herself with how much she liked him. Sure, the honeymoon glow couldn’t last. The more time they spent together, the less they’d be fun strangers and the more serious the whole situation would be. She’d get more scared, pull further away, and eventually find a new bar.  _ If past experiences have taught me anything, _ Veronica put a little more distance between them.    
  
“Tomorrow night sounds good,” Logan nodded, but felt the change in her face. “What were you just thinking about?” He asked, ready to know her seriously.    
  
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” she gave him a small smile, and let his eyes follow her out of the bar. 


	12. Ex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Lilly Lives AU, but fast-forwarded a bunch.

“I think that went pretty well, all things considered,” Logan tapped Veronica’s shoulder, ran his hand down to her elbow and spun her into his arms. Cocktail Veronica Mars could just about knock him down dead, it’d been a _long_ wedding reception of watching her dance, and smile, and drink champagne. Keeping his hands off her was a regular challenge, and in the sparkly dress and kitten heels… he’d _badly_ wanted to go home a few hours ago.  
  
“The wedding or the marriage?” Veronica eyed Lilly swaying with a groomsmen on the dancefloor, actual groom nowhere in sight.   
  
Logan shrugged, “You know Lilly; if she doesn’t have one of these every couple of years, being rich and fabulous is just a waste,” he smirked. “Her words, of course,” he shook his head.  
  
The great party of Lilly-and-Roger was somewhat dampened by the whispers about how this was the bride’s third marriage at 36 years old. He was pretty sure it didn’t faze Lilly, but Veronica had been biting her tongue all night to keep from throwing the good champagne at estranged cousins in defense of her best friend.  
  
“Can you _blame_ her though? The size of the seafood buffet, alone,” Veronica laughed, letting Logan pull her towards the door. Even great parties came to an end, she could expect a call from Lilly in the morning.   
  
“Really, and where’s this coming from? You wanna get married every four years like it’s the Olympics?” Logan laughed, taking her hand and spinning her in her heels towards the car.  
  
“Hmm… Let’s see, face all my relatives, sew myself into a dress, hire a priest… No,” Veronica shook her head decidedly. “Seafood table? Candy buffet? Yes, and yes, my friend,” she smiled, letting him get the car door for her. Other party goers were dispersing, saying goodbye in the parking lot and deciding on designated drivers. Theoretically, weddings were incredibly important, special days in people’s lives. Somewhere deep down, Veronica knew Lilly thought of the whole thing as important. She wished other people knew that about her best friend.   
  
“I see, the gourmet food catering deal without all the failed marriages, makes sense,” Logan helped Veronica into the car, the diamond engagement ring on her finger catching the streetlight as he did.   
  
“Maybe just one or two,” she leaned up to kiss him. “I almost couldn’t control myself tonight. Roger’s aunts were gathered like a flock of old hens, crowing about Lilly’s past in the women’s bathroom. I was tempted to flood the rumor mill with the little tidbit that you yourself were an ex,” she bit her lip.  
  
In the twenty years since their high school relationship, Logan and Lilly were all but romantically ancient. Even Veronica usually forgot that her soon-husband and her lifelong best friend used to be high school sweethearts.  
  
“Jeez, you probably could’ve exploded some old-lady-blue-haired-wigged heads,” Logan went around, getting in the driver’s seat. “My ex,” Logan shook his head, that felt like a million years and lifetimes ago. “And where was _your_ first ex-boyfriend tonight, huh? Lilly’s gonna make it a whole thing about him not showing up,” he laughed.  
  
Veronica gasped, “She showed me the card he sent, he wrote he was sorry he couldn’t make it but he’ll see her at the next one. Lilly almost ripped out her hem again, but I couldn’t help but laugh a _little,” _she giggled again, and even Logan broke into a laugh then. It had been a _long_ day. “Take me home,” she kicked her shoes off in the passenger seat, finally, resting her hand across his on the console. 


	13. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honeymoon LoVe. I'm sorry but, they needed a honeymoon

“And she wakes,” Logan smiled at Veronica’s bedhead coming stumbling towards him across the massive kitchen. The honeymoon they’d joked about, the one most people dreamt of… the tropics, the romance, the… beautifully prepared breakfast.   
  
“Room service?” Veronica’s face lifted into a smile.   
  
It wasn’t the contented smile from her vows, and it wasn’t the mischievous grin from their wedding night.  _ That _ particular curl in Veronica’s lips were only meant for pancakes and strong cups of coffee.   
  
“The pancakes I made myself, thank you very much,” Logan poured a steaming cup of coffee and let the steam and aroma waft her way. “Everything else, yes, room service,” he started building her a plate. Crispy bacon, chocolate chip muffin, pancakes and a  _ whole _ lot of syrup. “Good morning, Mrs.Mars-Echolls,” he handed her the plate, and  _ there _ it was, the Veronica Mars smile that meant she was about to kiss him.    
  
Leaning up on her toes, Veronica pressed a soft, slow kiss to his mouth. “Good morning, husband,” she sat across from him, and Logan blinked.   
  
In their fifteen years of loving each other, hurting each other, and all the running away, they’d called each other everything under the sun. He’d been her friend, her pest, her bad guy, her boyfriend, her ex.    
  
Husband?   
  
“That kind of has a nice ring to it,” Logan wagged his eyebrows over his cup of coffee.    
  
Sure, the ludicrously expensive private island honeymoon. They were a cliche, he shrugged, tearing into his own dry toast.    
  
“Anything on today’s agenda?” Veronica asked innocently. “I’ve heard a lot of hype about these honeymoon experiences,” she bit her lip, and flashed him a look with her blue eyes that had Logan all sorts of different hungry.   
  
He was sure the island was beautiful, but he was going to get better views inside their suite.   
  
“Oh, a lot to do today,” he kissed her across the table, thinking about just lifting her up and bringing her back to bed. 


	14. Scarf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between Lilly's death and before Keith goes after the Kanes.

She’d played with the pretty pink chiffon the whole ride over, but finally faced with Lilly’s grave Veronica fell silent. 

“Veronica, did you wanna say anything?” Her mom prompted, like there was anything Veronica could say to Lilly’s headstone that would make any sense. 

For days after the funeral, Veronica just kept staring at the chiffon scarf on her nightstand; too flashy and sheer to be hers, it was Lilly’s alright. Left over after a sleepover the week before, Veronica remembered Lilly modeling it, twirling it around her neck, laughing. It seemed like a million years ago. 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Veronica wrapped the scarf around Lilly’s stone, tying it across the base of the sparkling granite. There were trinkets of every size adorning the grave marker. Flowers, cards, little figurines of ballerinas and cheerleaders, sparkles in every variation. But none of it was Lilly’s, from before, and in Veronica’s mind it was very important that her grave have something her’s.

“You okay, sweetie?” Her dad wrapped his arm over her shoulder, and Veronica rubbed her face on his sleeve. 

“Let’s go home,” she sniffled, and didn’t want to think about the fresh dirt all around the stone. The scarf flapped in the breeze, Veronica watched it from the car as they pulled away, and she tried to stifle her sobs the whole way home.


	15. Bullshit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could probably take place after the movie, while Logan's deployed maybe?

Cards splayed out on the table face down, Veronica reached for a sip of her water and took a look around the table. Heads of motorcycle gangs, actors’ kids with money to burn… she found herself the only woman at an underground high-stakes poker game. Well, it was high-stakes for her. The five men around her her, staring her down, all probably had cushier bank accounts than hers. She was counting on that.

Against her better judgement, against anyone’s really, moonlighting as a cautious, but ruthless, poker player seemed like a good way to make fast cash until the hand in front of her. She’d staked it all on the river, and Veronica had everything riding on the Queen.

“Call,” she said, throwing chips to the pot at the center.

“Bullshit,” Eli Navarro shook his head, widening Veronica’s eyes across the table. “Bullshit you have the king; I don’t believe it,” he stood from his chair, drawing surprise from the rest of the table.

“Weevil, calm down, what’s the matter, you’re not good for it?” Veronica taunted, rolling her eyes for good measure. “If you didn’t come to play, well then just-”

“Hey, I came to play; did I say I wasn’t good for it?” Weevil got in Veronica’s face, earning him her stone-faced silence, until the guy on her left pulled Weevil back.

“C’mon, sit down man, let’s just play,” he said, and Weevil shrugged, walking back around his side of the table.

Veronica only recognized the guy to her left as Pierce Brosnan’s son, but she shot him a look of great relief, and a small smile with a lot of eyelash.

“Fine, I’m out,” Weevil said quietly, and threw his cards aside; Veronica shrugged and turned back to Pierce Brosnan’s kid.

He chewed his lip, eyeing the table and Veronica, and he folded, too. Throwing his cards back, he sighed, and gave Veronica a small smile back.

The only one still left to face Veronica’s hand was a biker named Speed, or Diesel, or something equally stupid Veronica couldn’t keep track of because she kept calling him Face Tattoo in her head. He had a big shamrock on the side of his head, and it left a big visual impression. He was a lieutenant in the Fitzpatricks, and Veronica knew he wasn’t supposed to be there. He was on the wrong side of town, playing with the wrong crowd, and Veronica was pretty sure he’d already lost more money to her than he’d planned to. She sipped her water, patiently waiting for his move.

The Fitzpatrick eyed Weevil, “You really think she’s bluffing, man?” He asked, looking around the table at everywhere but Veronica.

“Do I look like I’m a mind reader? It’s called gambling for a reason,” Weevil bore his eyes into Veronica’s. Most PCHers hated the Fitzpatricks, but Veronica knew Weevil’s dislike was more than personal.

Wiping sweat from his brow, the lieutenant nodded slowly. Veronica looked to his dwindling pile of chips and sighed.

“Look, not to be rude but I kinda got schedule here, you know,” she checked her watch and blinked at Face Tattoo.

“Yeah alright, call, call, I call,” he put his chips in and Veronica found herself in control of the table again. How she liked it.

“Raise,” she answered quick, “five grand,” she pushed her chips in slow, and relaxed her gaze on the Fitzpatrick.

“Okay, okay,” he ran his hand through his hair, hissing a sigh. Veronica watched him count his chips with his eyes, and she cursed herself. If she’d gone for the full ten grand bet, she would’ve been counting her chips already. But he was sweating bullets across the table from her, and Veronica knew she had the opportunity to make more money this way.

“Call,” the Fitzpatrick decided, and seemed a little out of breath. He pushed his chips towards the pot. “C’mon Blondie, let’s see-”

“Raise,” she cut him off with a bubbly smile, and the rest of the table just waited. “Five grand,” she levelled her gaze again, and the Fitzpatrick dropped his head, cursing under his breath.

“No, no more, I’m out, I’m done,” he waved her off, throwing his cards to the dead pile. “You win, Blondie,” he pushed off the table. “I’m out guys, let’s call it,” he wiped his forehead with the back of his hands.

The table pretty much agreed, and started cashing out. Judging just from the stacks, Veronica knew she’d done the best, even after she gave Weevil his cut.

“So, did you get the Brosnan kids number?” Weevil met her at the Camelot later, a big whole in his wallet for her to fill.

“Please, he’s like twenty,” she shook her head, handing him an envelope. “Are you busy next weekend?” She asked him, leaning into his bike.

“Yeah actually, I’m meeting my needlepoint club next Saturday night,” he shook his head. She was getting increasingly less cautious, and he didn’t like the idea of a Veronica Mars with an even wilder streak. He didn’t want her going out alone, but drawing her fire was going to hurt sometime.

“Bullshit,” she called over her shoulder, going back to her car. “I’ll text you where,” Veronica smiled, and waited for his nod before she pulled out of the parking lot.


	16. Contour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pre-alterna-prom jitters

Veronica couldn’t get her adrenaline levels down. Despite all her heavy skepticism and well-played nonchalance, despite all the turmoil that school dances usually brought her- she  _ still _ found herself a little excited by the impending Alterna-Prom. The fact that it was a Logan Echolls’ party that a lot of  _ her  _ friends were invited to, definitely opened the doors for some turmoil. Without school sanctioned chaperones, or really any rules, the night had all the trappings of true high school chaos. But also some… dare she think it…  _ fun? _

Fixing her hair in the mirror, she knew she’d been in the bathroom for upwards of an hour, and she thanked her lucky stars again that her dad was a pretty patient man. Reaching for her make up bag, she heard her phone ring- Mac’s ringtone.

The missing female ritual aspect wasn’t lost on Veronica. As she got herself ready, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about how Lilly had fantasized about the prom. That one magical night of high school where anything could happen. Or so Lilly described. And Veronica couldn’t help but wonder where in the world her mother was, if she even cared that she was missing her only daughter’s only almost-prom night. Veronica’s phone rang again and she snapped it off the sink counter. 

“Q?” She answered, cheerfully. “How we feeling?” She plumped her eyelashes with her other hand. Time was beginning to be a bit of a factor, Wallace still wanted to take a million pre-Alterna-Prom pictures. 

“On a scale of one to ten…” Mac was pacing as she talked, Veronica could just tell. “Do I really have to answer?”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Veronica sat against the sink. She still had to finish her make up, did she have time to coach Q through pre-prom disaster? Pulling out her blush, she could multitask. “Walk me through it,” she said, hoping Mac was remembering to breathe. 

“I look like an idiot in this dress-“

“A  _ smokin’ _ idiot, continue,” Veronica interrupted, pursing her lips to fix the contour of her cheeks. Lilly had taught Veronica most of what she knew about make up, but when Veronica applied it she usually tried to opt for lighter shades, lighter touches than Lilly did. Whenever Veronica donned Lilly’s signature red lips and long lashes, she just felt like she was playing dress up. 

“I look like an idiot in this dress, and I’m calling you from the bathroom of a  _ pirate ship. _ I just needed a break from… everything happening here. And I wanted to make sure to remind you for the one millionth time how  _ so _ hard you owe me for this, Bond.” Mac took a deep breath. It wasn’t going  _ that  _ badly, but there was no way it was going well. 

“You guys are definitely gonna meet us by Logan’s though, right?” Veronica heart raced, again. She  _ needed _ Mac. 

“I’ve never said this out loud before but  _ god, _ I can’t wait to get to Logan’s,” she sighed, and rolled her eyes at Veronica’s laugh. 


	17. Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short what-if from the night Aaron Echolls was murdered

Veronica got in the hotel elevator, ready to go home and end her long day by using her dog as an oversized, naturally heated pillow. 

Bracing herself as the elevator stopped to pick up someone else on the way down, Veronica just prayed Aaron Echolls was already in for the night. The last thing she wanted was another encounter with him. She still hadn’t made up her mind whether or not to tell her dad about her chat with Aaron in the elevator previously. 

He’d been angry, vaguely threatening, and most of all he’d confessed to the murder she’d wanted him to fry for. It hurt her heart that she played a hand in letting Lilly’s killer walk, and it hurt her heart that he got to keep living his life scot-free. Like he hadn’t ruined countless lives. And he was practically bragging about it. Once again, the rich in Neptune kept their status quo of being untouchable; even when they least deserved it.   
  
  
After his trial, Veronica figured Aaron Echolls was probably going to go on a victory lap, some tour of America where he could wade through groupies and schmooze away the scandal, a la O.J. until some other crime caught up to him. But Veronica never pictured herself actually running into him, fending off his vague threats in a close-quartered elevator. 

The elevator dinged it’s finally warning, and the doors opened, revealing Clarence Weidman, not Aaron Echolls. 

“Veronica Mars,” Weidman frowned, and walked into the elevator slowly, taking a place next to her. 

She froze for a second, glad she didn’t have to face an unconvicted killer but confused as to why the head of Kane Security was strolling around the Neptune Grand at all hours of the night. 

“Have you heard from Duncan, lately?” Veronica turned on her heel, as the elevator resumed descending.

“Have you?” Weidman glowered, and got off at the next floor, leaving Veronica alone to go home with her curiosities and questions. 


	18. Reserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> between the movie and s4 I guess? some universe bending

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” Veronica sputtered, a little shell-shocked. A few of his bags were by the door, and Logan was leaning on the kitchen island wearing his apology face. Veronica had been joyfully getting used to Logan’s retirement from the Navy. Having a full-time live-in boyfriend had all the perks she’d been promised for years, but he was leaving. 

“It’s a training thing for a buddy,” Logan came around the island, and regretted this whole thing being last minute. Honestly, he’d been a little afraid that she would be happy to have some alone time- oddly, it was relieved to be facing one angry Veronica. “A last minute favor, helping him train a new reserve team. It’ll be twenty days or less, depending on the quality of the trainees,” he promised, and he realized as she relaxed that Veronica hadn’t just been angry, he’d scared her, too.

It wasn’t the six month absence Veronica had prepared herself for just by looking at the bags, and she felt herself breathe a little easier. 

“Training a new reserve team,” she nodded, processing. Her eyes found their way to his bags by the door, again. “That doesn’t  _ sound _ like an overseas operation,” she folded her arm across her chest, but let Logan pull her close. 

“It’s not, we’ll be on a training camp upstate, and I’ll get to keep my cell phone the whole time, no longhand letters or Skype sessions,” Logan pressed his lips to the wave of her bangs. Sometimes he missed the Navy, but he hated the pull of having two top priorities. Veronica Mars was just a  _ little _ less demanding than the United States military industrial complex; sometimes he’d had to say no to her, he’d had to disappoint her. And being out of the Navy left him the freedom to do side missions, like help train new teams. 

Veronica pursed her lips. “A training camp upstate? No  _ real  _ danger?” She tried not to pout. It was great having him home, but Veronica hoped he never pined for the Navy, too much. 

Logan shrugged, pulling her down to the couch with him. “I wouldn’t say that; I’m gonna be sharing a campsite bathroom with twenty four trainees,” he wrapped his arms over her on the couch, and she pressed herself into his chest. “I have to leave tomorrow,” he felt her stiffen, and winced.

“Well,” Veronica leaned up on his chest, “Guess that means we should make the most of tonight?” 


	19. Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the backseat of XTerra, after LoVe gets back together post-Duncan. Uh, the prompt was ‘tongue’ so yeah, it’s a little nsfw.

As much as Veronica hated sacrificing a little control, and letting Logan drive, she knew his backseat pretty much always made up for it at the end of the night. Propped up on her elbows, laying across the back, Veronica rested easy under Logan’s weight. His hands grazed the sides of her hips, tickling the exposed skin between her t-shirt and jeans. Kissing under her chin, Logan relished the buck in Veronica’s hips up against him. 

Pulling him closer, Veronica brought his lips to hers, in a long, slow kiss. Coming up for air, Logan leaned into her, tracing a line along her neck with his tongue, savoring the sweet saltiness of her skin. Veronica’s frustrated gasping for breath encouraged him, and it encouraged him to keep teasing her, stopping to rest his face in her neck. 

“Logan…” She prompted, running her hands along his back. Even without pressure, her nails tickled through his shirt, reminding him exactly what she wanted. Running his tongue over her collarbone and dangerously close to the top buttons of her shirt. Logan froze, and laughed when Veronica’s cold hands worked their way under his shirt. “Logan,” she huffed again, pulling at the hem of his shirt until he finally lifted it the rest of the way over his head. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, skirting his palm over the bangs framing her flushed face. They were back together, sure, but did that mean they were back  _ together? _

“I’m not, actually,” Veronica reached for her own buttons, fingers working down her shirt. “A little better,” she breathed, biting her lip at the way Logan was looking at her. “You’re killing me here,” she finally hissed out, when his mouth dipped down to her chest. Pulling for his belt, Veronica didn’t want to admit to herself how  _ much _ she missed Logan’s touch. Duncan had a special place in her heart, but… “Oh my god,” she shivered, as Logan’s lips teased down her middle, and he kissed her at the button of her jeans, bucking her hips to him, again. 

“And here, we come to our first obstacle,” he teased, leaning on his elbow between her and the seat back. “The common button, a small but mighty problem,” he trailed his fingers against her hips, admiring the goosebumps he could conjure on her skin. 

“I’m a problem-solver,” Veronica could barely breathe with him touching her like that; she undid her own button and zipper, nestling herself against him as his touched softened. She missed being with him, but Veronica was starting to doubt if Logan missed  _ being _ with her. “Are  _ you _ okay?” She asked, leveling her eyes with his. The look on his face was pure  _ want, _ Veronica couldn’t deny that, but she felt like he was dragging his feet to his target. They’d had a few  _ great _ make-out sessions, but since they’d been back together, every time they got close to crossing the metaphorical line, Logan kept pulling back. 

“I’m good right here,” he said, placing a kiss by her open zipper and then going back up to kiss the underside of her cheek. “I just… want to make sure you… are sure you want to…” Logan trailed off, waving his hand between the two of them, laying skin to skin in his back seat.

“Mmm, so you’re torturing me to make sure I  _ want,” _ Veronica nodded, bringing him back to her lips. That was what his dragging his feet was about, making her undress herself, pumping the brakes whenever they got too close. He wanted her to be sure. It was sweet, but shirtless and laying between her legs it was also infuriating. Kissing him hard, Veronica worked her fingers through his hair, and breaking their kiss, breathlessly, she went back to problem-solving his belt. “I want  _ you _ , Logan,” she gave him the most serious look she could muster, and it made him smile wide.

“Well, what Bobcat wants, she gets,” he pressed his lips back to her neck, one of his hands still teasing around her open zipper. 

“Promises, promises,” Veronica hissed, her eyes rolling back as Logan’s hand went to work giving her what she wanted. 


	20. Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MotW with Weevil as a special guest.

Weevil waited at the tip of Dog Beach, just like Veronica asked him to; he didn’t realize that when she asked him to take a drive, they wouldn’t actually be together. It was her doing the work and him doing surveillance, which was fine, but he still wasn’t that sure what Veronica was doing. When a man got in her passenger seat, Weevil figured it was showtime, and she was probably bait. The lebaron flashed it’s headlights two quick times, and Weevil knew the signal when he saw it. Getting back on his bike, he let Veronica and her mystery passenger pull ahead of him, and then he followed. Sometimes Weevil could swear Veronica leaned into the drama of their lives- a teenage private eye, a high school motorcycle gang leader; like Hollywood wasn’t close enough already- but tailing her from a few cars back with a mark in her vehicle, Weevil had to admit he could feel the tension.

Usually he loved the Neptune streets at night, less traffic, less bullshitm and he didn’t have to sweat in his favorite jacket, but this drive made Weevil hope they were going somewhere closer rather than further away. Skating through the red lights, Weevil tried to imagine what was going on in Veronica’s little P.O.S. convertible rust-bucket. When the car slowed and turned into the Neptune Grand parking lot, Weevil’s gut feeling read bad to worse. Following at a safe distance, Weevil watched Veronica park, and he pulled his bike onto the curb on the corner.

Never taking his eyes off Veronica, Weevil watched as the man followed her closely out of the car, and marched them towards the lobby. When she’d pitched this outing, Veronica told him the mark might have a gun, and from the pin-straight of Veronica’s posture, and the way the guy was walking behind her, Weevil got the bad feeling she may have been right. He ran his hand over his head, thinking and giving them a little space, and then he followed, catching a glimpse of them through the lobby getting into the elevator. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Weevil cursed under his breath, counting the dings of the elevator as it rose with Veronica and her mark in it. “Fourth floor,” he counted, and when the dings stopped, Weevil booked it towards the stairs. Running up, cursing again, Weevil swore if they both survived this shit, he was seriously gonna start saying no to Veronica Mars. “Fourth floor,” he made it, relieved, and coming out of the stairwell he heard the slam of a suite door close down the hall. 

“Christ,” he took off down the hall, hoping the door that closed was Veronica and her mystery bad guy. With a deep breath, Weevil hedged his bets, and pounded on the door, hard. He kept pounding, until he heard noise on the other side of the door. “Housekeeping,” he called loudly, and held his hand over the door’s peephole. “Housekeeping,” he called again, and kept knocking. 

“We didn’t order anything,” a man yelled without opening the door, and Weevil felt like maybe this was the right room after all. 

“Housekeeping,” Weevil pounded again, forcing customer-service cheer into his voice for all it was worth, and he smiled when he heard the chain on the door unlocking. 

“Look, we  _ didn’t _ order anything-“ the man started, but Weevil pushed in as soon as the door opened. 

“He’s armed!” Veronica jumped up off the bed as soon as she had help, grabbing her taser from where Chuck had made her put it. “Drop it, Chuck,” she warned, as the two men struggled over the gun.

Veronica pushed herself into the struggle and played spoiler, shoving her taser at Chuck’s chest and pulling the trigger, ending the fight quickly when he doubled over, letting Weevil take hold of the gun. 

“You okay?” Weevil turned to her, after tucking the gun into his waistband. Physically, she looked okay, but half the time he couldn’t tell with Veronica. She looked a little out of breath, like she’d actually been afraid of the man wailing on the ground. 

She nodded, only feeling better watching Chuck squirm. “Thanks for coming,” she shook her head, thinking about what might’ve happened if she hadn’t asked Weevil for a hand on this one. “I’m gonna call the Sheriff, I have proof he’s been trafficking girls through some of the local hotels,” she stepped close to Weevil, and with a smile reached into his jacket, pulling Chuck’s gun from her waistband. “There’s no serial number, and they’re gonna need it for evidence,” she stepped back from Weevil, wiping the gun down with the hem of her shirt. “They won’t find any prints on it now, but they also won’t find yours,” she smiled, head tilting just-so and Weevil knew his night wasn’t over yet.

“I don’t do cops, V,” Weevil said, rolling his eyes at Chuck’s groans. The PCHers would’ve had a different way of handling a sex trafficker, but sure Veronica wanted to call the Sheriff. 

“I know, here,” reaching into Chuck’s jacket, and tazering him again when he protested, Veronica pulled cash from Chuck’s wallet. “Wanna rent a room here and wait for me to finish with Lamb?” Veronica watched a _lot_ of mental math play on Weevil’s face. “Not like _that,_ dork,” she shook her head, pressing cash into his fist. “They’re gonna need to ask me a bunch’ve questions and everything, but,” she looked from Weevil to Chuck and back, “if you’ve got the time to hang out, I would appreciate it if you followed me home after, too,” she said, her smile crooked and hopeful. Weevil could still see a little fear in her bright blue eyes. He wasn’t sure what might’ve went down in that room if he hadn’t come, but Veronica had been afraid of it happening. 

“Next time you ask if I’m available to go for a drive, I’m making sure the prick’s unarmed first,” fixing his serious face on her, Weevil frowned. “I’ll wait til you call Lamb, and then I’ll go get a room,” he nodded. “I’ll see if I can get one nearby, keep my eyes out,” he sat on the bed, and let her call the cops. He was going soft, that’s what the guys would say.  _ Not _ that he was telling the guys about riding security for a blue-eyed blonde one bad luck bound away from 09er status. But still, she looked shaken, and he was glad to help. 

“Thanks, Eli,” she smiled his way, and Weevil felt himself in a different kind of trouble. 


	21. Cranberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bartender AU continuation, a few weeks after the last installment.

“Rum and coke for me, she’ll have a, uh, vodka cranberry,” the guy dropped a fifty dollar bill on twelve dollars worth of drinks, and slid it across the bar to Logan. Veronica sat next to the guy, smiling wide and false, confusing the hell out of Logan. 

“Not too strong for me,” Veronica giggled through her fake accent, and Logan stared between her and the guy for a few full seconds. “I’m what my sorority sisters call a  _ lightweight,” _ she tossed her hair with a high laugh. 

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Logan cleared his throat, and made the drinks, watching Veronica from the corner of his eye.

“I’m Betty, by the way,” she introduced herself to him, hand outstretched over the bar. “How’s  _ your _ night going?” She asked, full of pep and eager interest, even as her companion rolled his eyes. 

“I’m Logan,” he shook her hand, sending her telepathic signals asking if she’d somehow been body snatched. “And it’s been a weird one around here tonight, Betty,” he tried to smile and play along, but confusion and mild jealousy kept stealing his focus. Not to mention,  Veronica’s Betty’s dress had him sweating, even on opposite sides of the bar. 

“Let the man work, baby,” the man to her side tugged at her, and Logan watched the clench in Veronica’s jaw as she nodded herself back into Betty’s place. 

“Here’s your vodka cranberry, not too strong,” Logan put the pink drink in front of her, and gave her friend his drink. In theory, there were a few people on the other end that he hadn’t checked on in awhile, but there was no force on earth that could move him any further from Veronica Mars than he was.

“Thanks,” the guy sipped his, and waited for Logan to leave. “Kind of a private party,” his smile was full of crooked teeth, and Logan didn’t like it, “we’ll let you know if we need refills,” he all but dismissed him, and Logan could swear he could see a little blush in Veronica’s cheeks. 

“Sure, sure,” Logan straightened off the bar and turned to work at the sink behind him, breaking up a block of ice into the smaller shavings he needed. 

“Baby?” Veronica leaned into the man, and Logan felt himself flinch. The fake accent, the big lipstick, the  _ dress _ and the fake name all told Logan this was something in the works, but he still felt himself bothered when Veronica leaned down, whispering into the man’s ear.

“Here?” The man pulled back from Veronica, licking his lips as she nodded and fluttered her eyelashes. 

“Please?” She asked, breathily and twisting in her stool; Logan had to stop himself from snapping the glass he was working with. 

“If you really want me to,” the guy abruptly stood from the bar and Logan watched him walk to the private bathroom. 

Veronica’s face changed, back to the Veronica Logan knew; no wide, fake smiles, no gratuitous eye lash flutters or head tilts. 

“A water, miss?” Logan stood in front of her, sort of asking if the coast was clear; if they could drop the act and know each other. Smiling, Veronica ducked her head to keep from giving him too much credit; he was handling himself better than she thought he would. 

“Sure, thanks,” she suppressed her smile further, still teasing him until she saw the vein in his forehead flash. “Mike’s a married brute, but Betty can overlook all that, on account of his lavish gift-giving,” Veronica smoothed her hair behind her ears, revealing a set of sparkling, dangling diamonds. “Dude’s been trying to solicit who he thinks is a co-ed who’s randomly attracted to dad-bods for like two weeks,” she sipped her vodka cranberry and wrinkled her nose. “Can you make me something else, while I go finish this up?” She smiled full of innocence, as Logan just kind of stared. Standing from her stool, Veronica pulled her Nikon from her bag, and finally got him to soften with a head tilt. Not the hair flip of Betty or whoever, it was all Veronica Mars. “If I’m not back in like five minutes, come looking for me, okay?” 

Logan relented with a nod, keeping his eyes on the second hand of his watch. Two minutes and twenty six seconds later, Mike ran through the bar, almost tripping over his open pants, and forgetting his jacket at his stool altogether. With an apologetic smile, Veronica watch Mike push his way out the main door, and took her time getting back to Logan. 

“So, do you wanna know what that was about?” She interrupted his inner monologue and handed back the vodka cranberry. 

“Yeah, call me crazy but I am  _ kinda  _ wondering why my girlfriend brought a date to my bar,” he leaned his elbow down on the bar, facing her and waiting patiently for a full five seconds before he realized what he said. 

“Five dates and a Netflix marathon, and you just start whipping out the g-word?” Veronica teased him, but it was half-hearted. “Cosmo didn’t even tell me we were official yet, but…” She saw his face, eyes wide and waiting for her real reaction. She  _ liked _ him, a lot; the more Veronica got to know Logan Echolls, local drink pourer, the  _ more _ she liked him. It was almost definitely destined to explode, like every other relationship she’d had in the past. But. She did really like him. “But let me explain, boyfriend,” Veronica took her seat back in front of him, and she thought she caught a little sigh of relief parting his lips. “Logan in his natural habitat,” she clicked her Nikon his way. “See, if you were a cheating husband with your pants down waiting for a blonde in a bathroom stall, I’d use this nifty little Bluetooth feature,” she pointed at the blue light on her camera, “and help your soon-to-be ex-wife with her alimony settlement.” Smiling, she put her camera away and reached for the fresh drink he’d made her, not a vodka cranberry in sight. 

Logan nodded. “So that’s Betty? The honeypot?” A lot of the time he wondered about Veronica’s line of work, the sorts of cases she took, the types of investigations she did. “But why bring the dude here?”

“Well,” she leaned closer, “I never met him before, and I figured if anything went wrong, I could count on my boyfriend,” she put her hand over his, and he felt calm for the first time since she’d walked in. It wasn’t about making him jealous, it was about trusting him. “ _ I’m _ officially off the clock now, but I’m pretty sure that guy’s about one minute away from reaching over and making his own drink,” Veronica pointed down the bar, and Logan had to on purpose tear his eyes away from Veronica. 


	22. Focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One bored Veronica.

Tapping her pen against her test, Veronica only realized how much noise she was making when Ms.James shot her a pleading look that begged her to stop tapping. With a sorry shrug and a huff at herself, Veronica put her pen down. No one had to tell her how important PSAT was; she was aware. She had the study guides, the practice questions, the Top Ten Tips for the PSAT. But whenever she sat to take the  _ practice _ practice test, Veronica always felt something more important clouding her brain. Down in the principal’s office, Veronica just hoped her best friend turned student aide hadn’t lost  _ his _ focus. She needed that permanent file. 

Volunteering for the proctored practice test, Veronica thought she found a way to guarantee her concentration but she kept letting herself get distracted. Ms.James office was cramped, with four students scattered all taking their tests, and the walls were plastered in way too many self-help posters for Veronica to be able to concentrate on pre-call questions. 

“Eyes on your own paper, Martina,” Ms. James warned, and Veronica made herself sit up a little straighter. She didn’t have  _ that _ much time left in that section, and she had ground to make up.  _ Think of the scholarship money,  _ she forced herself. All her loved ones teased her about being obsessive- she  _ wasn’t  _ she just had an intense train of thought- she figured she just had to apply herself to the task at hand. It was only another forty five minutes til freedom, she eyed the clock on the wall. Maybe there was a merciful god, who could bring them a fire drill. 


	23. Throw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birthday surprise from Mac and Wallace.

“Surprise!” Mac flourished her hands as she pulled into the parking lot. Operation: Veronica Mars turns nineteen was in full swing- Wallace had the balloons and cake waiting at the curb of the venue to prove it.

“The Break Room?” Veronica read the sign and looked skeptical, as Mac pulled the car up to Wallace. “Was fun station’s laser tag room booked full?” She asked Wallace, accepting his one-handed birthday hug, while he balanced her sheet cake. “Although, if that’s chocolate-chocolate, you may be onto something here,” she smiled at the cake and balloons. She’d had some bad birthdays, the last couple years. Mac and Wallace were trying, Veronica could figure that much. “What the hell is the Break Room?” She asked, and Wallace actually beamed at her. 

“Veronica, this is gonna be our new hang out, okay? I read about this place online, you book a party room, order your pizzas, and then…” Wallace looked at Mac, setting the suspense. “They bring you like fancy old china and dishes and stuff, and you go to town, you smash them, throw them; you can go bowling with breakable pins, everything gets smashed up into tiny little pieces.”

“It’s supposed to relieve a lot of stress, and they only use donated materials, so it’s not like we’re just wasting all this breakable stuff, really,” Mac chimed in. “I wanna smash a printer,” she admitted, with a little shrug of guilt.

“Come  _ on, _ Supafly, I know all about that deep-down misplaced anger that’s just been waiting to throw a dish at a wall. Come on, we’re Room B,” Wallace lead them inside. 

Room B was two rooms, actually. Two sections. There was a booth and table area, with all the promised pizza and snacks; a typical birthday spread once Wallace added the cake in. But further in, there was another room, with safety suits, goggles, and a big pile of delicate tableware. 

“This is what I’m talking about,” Wallace threw Veronica a pair of goggles, and Mac was already laughing. 

Once everyone was decked out in their orange safety jumpsuits, Wallace picked up a tiny teacup, holding it in both hands. 

“Oops,” he threw it up in the air, and when it fell to the ground with a satisfying smash, Veronica knew they were going to have fun. 

“Whoopsie,” Mac rolled a glass vase across the floor, smashing as it hit the far wall. 

“Oh, a  _ spare, _ look out women’s breakable bowling league,” Wallace commentated, offering Veronica a big, wide dinner plate. Breaking into a laugh, Veronica psyched herself up, and then launched the plate like a frisky at the far wall. When it shattered, the game was on. 

The three of them broke plates, cups, discarded electronics, and even threw a few rotten tomatoes, until Veronica was ready to collapse from exhaustion and laughter. The room looked like a certified disaster area, and Mac took pictures of the destruction with the digital camera she borrowed from her mom. 

Peeling herself out of her safety suit, Veronica served herself and Mac some pizza as they sat back and relaxed in the aftermath. Wallace had an idea, piling up little pieces of strewn porcelain and debris. 

In lopsided piles of shards, Veronica saw he spelled Happy Birthday, and she shook her head as Mac snapped more pictures. 

“Come eat, Papa Bear,” Veronica served him a slice of pizza. “I wanna pitch you guys my next birthday outing; I hear there’s a place in Santa Monica where you throw axes at targets,” she grinned. 


	24. Collection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pre-series, after Lianne leaves.

Eyeing the garbage pail under her desk, Veronica ignored the heavy feeling in her chest that made her want to take the music box out of it. She was  _ mad _ at her mother, furious that she left, that she left without her. That she left without even saying goodbye to her. Didn’t she even care?    
With the music box in the pail, Veronica could pretend that she was above all the sadness of it. The tragedy. She could pretend she was stronger than her dad and the way he kept looking at the door and leaving the porch light on all night.  _ Just in case. _   
Veronica wasn’t holding her breath. If her mother wanted to go, if it was  _ so _ unbearable being her mom everyday, maybe things would be better off. But the damned music box. Her childhood collection.    
Veronica remembered her sixth birthday, going to the mall with her mom for a little silver nameplate, but in the jewelry store a little music box caught her eye instead, and Lianne relented, getting her both.  _ To start her collection, _ she promised more music boxes to come, and Veronica had a few buried in her closet with other childhood mementos.    
Frowning at herself, at the garbage pail, too, Veronica huffed. One day, her mom  _ would _ come home, and maybe they would both regret things they’d said and done.    
  
“Hey, kiddo, you ready to eat? Pizza’s almost ready,” Keith knocked at the door, checking in on his daughter. The way Veronica’s eyes were set at the waste basket and bent down to look into it. “Honey,” he sighed, picking the music box out of it.    
  
“I don’t need that,” Veronica argued, as Keith set it on her dresser. “She doesn’t need  _ us, _ ” she countered his frown with her own.    
  
“That’s not what this is about, Veronica,” he promised, smoothing hair down around her chin. “Your mom… just needed a break, I think. She’s had a hard year,” Keith’s throat went dry when he thought about the hard year his daughter was having, too. And how some of it kept being his fault. “Come on, let’s eat, I rented a surprise for you,” he pulled Veronica out of her room and her bad mood.    
  
“Better be a big pony,” Veronica sing-songed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES i am finishing these a year late instead of starting a promptober 2020. i WILL finish these and other WIPs SOON.


	25. Quick

Swiveling the sheriff department’s squeaky chair, Veronica saw how much her fidgeting was starting to grate on Lamb. She sighed heavily, thinking about banging her head on the desk.   
  
“We know you were there,” Lamb reminded her; minute twenty-one of their little question-and-answer. Veronica had to admit Lamb wasn’t the only one starting to get annoyed.   
  
“I _told_ you I was,” Veronica shook her head. “09’er party, I know I was crashing,” she held up her hands in confession, “I didn’t really think it was a police matter.” As if the sheriff’s department did any real police-work, anymore.   
  
“It’s a police matter because Logan Echolls says there are some family values missing,” Lamb wasn’t ready to accuse her, but Veronica knew he’d get her in trouble for anything he could.   
  
“And let me guess, you already talked to all the rich kids and you’ve worked your way down to me. Did they haveta sit here all afternoon, too?” Veronica shook her head. Nothing moved Lamb’s sheriff department like a rich family missing a family valuable. She wondered what the Echolls’ were offering in reward money.   
  
“Well…” Lamb prompted. “Did you _see_ anyone acting suspicious at the party?” He huffed his own sigh, thinking about how much easier his life would be if his old boss gave in to public demand and just moved someplace far, far away. And his little daughter, too.   
  
“As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I saw the butler in the library with a candlestick,” with a wide, false smile Veronica eyed her watch. “Half the kids were so drunk they couldn’t keep track of their own shoes. And the other half just wanted to see the Echolls’ family mansion.” Veronica picked at a cuticle. When Lamb pulled her in she knew was it was about, but wasting his time was starting to waste hers.   
  
“And you were there making a social call? The Echolls kid says you two have a special relationship, and you were there uninvited.” Lamb crossed something out on the notepad in his hand, but Veronica had a twenty dollar bill to say he was just doodling.   
  
“It’s okay, no need to be jealous, I told Logan you’re the only special man in my life,” she smiled sweet, squeaking in her chair again, tapping her feet annoying him.   
  
“What. Were you. Doing at that party?”   
  
“Fine. I was doing a favor, for a friend. I was there all of fifteen minutes, and all I saw was Logan Echolls desperately trying to keep people’s hands off of his parents’ stuff. That party didn’t look like his idea, and Dick threw fuel on the fire when he started serving beer out of Mrs. Echolls’ silver punch bowl.” Leaning back in her chair, Veronica laced her fingers behind her neck. “Let me guess, the punch bowl’s part of the missing property,” she glared Lamb’s way until he rolled his eyes and shrugged. “They were using Mr. Echolls’ golf clubs to hit balls over the fence, let me guess, those mysteriously vanished, too.” 09’ers lying to cover their tracks? _Perish the thought._ Veronica slung her bag over her shoulder. “Are we good here? Some of us have other cases to work on.”  
  
“One more quick thing,” Lamb stopped Veronica on her way out the door. “Say hi to your dad for me, ‘kay Veronica? Tell him the whole station’s just bummed he’s working on messy divorces and insurance fraud cases now,” Lamb winked, laughing, kicking his feet up on the desk.   
  
“Sure, I’ll tell him you needed my help,” she tossed her hair over her shoulder and left, still thinking about how to claim that Echolls’ reward money. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can't thank y'all enough for your kind comments and gentle pleas for more on some of these WIPs. im gonna try!


	26. Limes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a liiiiittle clumsy but i wanted something quick and this idea came to me during a veeery hot day last week. there may have been tequila involved.

“After midnight and it’s  _ still _ ninety-something out there,” Veronica strode into the bar, exhausted after a  _ long _ stake out with no air condition in her car. Logan’s wide smile from behind the bar told her he was still happy to see her. “Please ignore the several layers of grime and sweat on me,” she begged him, as he came around the bar to kiss her forehead. Veronica spied a  _ very _ voluptuous red head down at the other end of the bar, tapping her bright red fingernails at Logan.   
  
“Duty calls,” Logan pressed another kiss to Veronica’s ear. “I’ll make you something to cool you down,” he promised, heading back to his other patrons.    
  
“Does that mean bartenders prefer blondes?” The redhead asked Logan, pushing herself up on the bar.    
  
Veronica couldn’t hear Logan’s response, but she saw the redhead’s frown. When Logan came back to her, he had a small smile tugging the corners of his lips.    
  
“You okay?” Putting a glass in front of her, Logan pulled out his coldest bottle of tequila. “Sorry, we’re out of ice for the moment; people keep asking. I have a few frozen lime wedges,” stirring the frozen lime pieces into the cold tequila, he hoped it would cool down the red in Veronica’s cheeks. “And I’ll get you some water,” he offered her a cold spring water and he could almost forget there were other people in the bar.    
  
“Thanks, yeah I’m fine,” Veronica tried to keep her eyes off the redhead, turning her head to Logan, “you can go back to work. I heard somewhere bartending is a tips-based income,” she smiled back at him, but Logan couldn’t help but be suspicious. It was almost a year they’d been dating, and Veronica didn’t always temper her jealousy successfully around other lady patrons. Logan shook his head at himself, but it was kind of hot sometimes.    
  
Leaning her elbows across the wood of the bar, Veronica sipped her cold drink and breathed relief back into it. Her eyes caught the pretty little frozen lime wedges instead of ice cubes, and she smiled at the back of Logan’s head as he tended to another regular. Pushing up on her stool, Veronica grabbed another lime wedge from behind the bar; it wasn’t quite ice but it was very, very cold to her fingertips. When Logan’s eyes turned back to her, Veronica closed her eyes, pressing the cold lime across her collarbone. Sliding it past her pulse point, Veronica flitted her eyelashes up at Logan standing in front of her then. Guiding the wedge  _ and _ Logan’s focus back down her collarbone, Veronica bit her lip when Logan closed his hand over hers, accidentally squeezing  _ very _ cold lime juice right down her shirt.    
  
“Cooler, now?” Logan relaxed his fingers, with a guilty shrug and a look down the bar. The redhead put down her cash to settle her tab and hopped off her stool with a huff.    
  
“Surprisingly, yes. Say, do you have any ice?” Veronica’s face blinked pure innocence, squeezing the rest of the lime into her drink, but Logan was still barely recovered. 


	27. Arrive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is admittedly a stretch, but i LOVED the idea and tbh i keep thinking about writing a real fic for this one.

“Hey, where’s V?” Wallace walked in with Jackie, meeting Logan at the check-in desk.    
  
“Not here yet,” Logan shrugged, checking the clock behind the receptionist. Veronica wasn’t officially late  _ yet, _ but when he factored in that this whole thing was her idea… she was getting closer and closer to it.    
  
“Just so your group knows,” the receptionist looked up behind the desk, peering over her glasses, “late parties aren’t given extra time. Each party has a one-hour slot, if you get here fifty five minutes late then you only have five minutes in the room,” she warned, going back to playing solitaire on her phone.    
  
“Shouldn’t we just start without Veronica, then?” Jackie jumped to the logical conclusion; it wasn’t that she was  _ dying _ to start but,  _ less _ time sounded like a disadvantage, and she could feel her competitive streak about to come out.    
  
Logan blinked impatiently. “You want to start the escape room  _ without _ the one of us who’s a private detective,” he huffed, checking the clock again. Two minutes before their time started ticking, he eyed the door hoping for a blonde pixie. “So far, not really impressed with your reasoning skills,” he shook his head.   
  
“Hey, watch it man, c’mon. I see your team spirit’s already low,” Wallace ran his hand down Jackie’s back, relaxing tension from her shoulders. If only someone was there to do that for Logan…   
  
“Sorry! Sorry, I got caught up in a case,” Veronica came bursting in, last to arrive but the most eager. “So are you guys ready to solve the case of the lost mummy and  _ escape _ the hidden tomb?” She beamed up at Logan, placating his frown with a  _ hello _ kiss.    
  
As if on cue, the door to the escape room opened automatically, making Wallace jump. “I’m ready,” he held up his hands defensively, and Veronica and Jackie nodded all too innocently.    
  
“Fifty nine minutes and counting,” the receptionist prompted, inching the group into the dark hall following the door.    
  
“Why did I just get the chills?” Logan took Veronica’s hand, ready to follow her lead even in the fake mysteries.    
  
“You’re telling me,” Wallace took Jackie’s hand, too. “At least no one in  _ this _ mystery has it out for us, yet,” he raised his eyebrows to Veronica, waving her and Logan in front of them. “You guys wanted to go first, right?”    
  
Logan sighed through a laugh. “Ladies first,” he kissed the top of Veronica’s head and they headed into the mystery. 


	28. Scared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :) we're still going!! Weevil xVeronica adventures, some light criminal activity.

Veronica had the excuses already on her tongue. She was there _because…_ Well, really she was there because the company thought their top employee was embezzling, and she was breaking into his office for his records. Or was she just lost? Looking for the bathroom? All blonde, and turned around, and confused…  
  
But long past closing time, Veronica didn’t actually anticipate running into anyone that wasn’t mopping the floors. And she had the entry key the company had given her. It was going to be an easy, in-and-out rifle-through-the-desk situation. More than likely, if the guy had half a brain he hadn’t left a paper trail _in_ his office. But she hadn’t scoped out his home enough to go there yet.   
  
Letting herself in the office, Veronica went behind the desk, booting up the computer, rolling her eyes at the family pictures on the guy’s desk. They were all happy little frames of a big house, a smiling wife, and three little boys missing various baby teeth in their grins. With a sigh, Veronica knew the wife had already left him last year. The company suspected he was stealing to supplement the child support.   
  
A footstep outside the door steadied Veronica’s concentration, making her work faster in the dark. The computer was clean, no traces of any personal accounts or another set of books, but Veronica made a copy of some files to a thumb drive, anyway. _For some light reading in COM 101,_ she stifled a yawn, hearing the spin of the floor waxer going by outside the door. Standing up and shoving the thumb drive into her pocket, she clicked off the last desk light, and froze in place when a key jingled in the doorknob. _Shit._   
  
Carefully and quietly, she dropped to the floor and crawled to the office closet, tucking herself in among the office supplies and storage. The door opened, and Veronica held her breath. She was there, actually, _because..._  
  
“Veronica?” A voice whispered, and she rolled her eyes.   
  
“I told you to wait in the car and that the key was for _emergencies,_ Weevil,” Veronica ground out, poking her head out of the closet. “You scared me for a second, I thought he was here,” she brushed herself off and was about to get off the floor, when something caught her eye. A seam in the carpet through the middle of the closet floor just didn’t look right. Running her fingers over it, Veronica felt along the seam until she caught the corner, and pulled. “Bingo,” she smiled up over her shoulder at Weevil in the dark.   
  
“Rich people _really_ have secret hidden floor safes?” Weevil rolled his eyes. “I thought that was all Nancy Drew stuff,” he bent down to help her pull up the carpet. “So can you get into it? Get out your little safe-cracking kit, or whatever.”   
  
Veronica deflated and started shaking her head, thinking for a moment. “I’m not that good. But…” Going back to the desk, she thought about where someone _might_ hide their passwords… and their codes to their secret safe. When she pulled the top drawer all the way off it’s rails, she smiled at the little piece of tape in its inside corner with numbers scribbled small. “This guy watches too many movies,” smiling, Veronica had a few guesses to what she might find in the safe. 


End file.
